“But no, my queen, of course not. We eat, we drink, we dance, the celebration will last into the night.”
Was she kidding? It was barely noon.
“I can’t sit out in this sun until it sets, Diandra, I’ll be a lobster.”
“A lobster?”
“My skin will burn red,” I explained and she smiled.
“Ah, I see, a lobster after it is cooked. Clever, Dahksahna Circe.”
I wasn’t trying to be clever. I was trying to save myself from third degree burns.
“Diandra, I’m serious.”
She stared at me, the smile died out of her eyes and then she looked uncertainly at the king.
Then she muttered, “I see this job will have its downfalls.” Then she called out to Lahn, I looked to him and saw his head turn to her, he watched her as she spoke then his eyes dropped to my arm for a fraction of a second before they sliced back to her.
“Me,” he grunted and looked away.
“He says no,” Diandra told me.
She had to be kidding. He had to be kidding.
“But I’ll fry out here!” I cried, she bit her lip and I heard Lahn speak.
I looked to him and back to Diandra when she interpreted.
“The golden queen sits at her king’s side.”
I looked to Lahn. “Seriously, Lahn, this sun is hot, the fires are hot and my skin isn’t like yours. It’s not –”
Diandra was talking with me and Lahn cut us both off with, “Me.”
“Lahn!” I snapped, he leaned into me and his eyes were scary.
“Me, Circe. Me.”
He looked away and that was it.
No.
Okay, one good thing about that was that my dilemma was solved as to how I felt about being in this world and how I felt about my savage king.
And that solution was that I was done. I needed to find a way out.
As soon as f**king possible.
Chapter Nine
The Celebration
Night had fallen, torches had been lit and I knew by the tightness of my skin that I was burned to a crisp.
Diandra wasn’t wrong, the celebration lasted into the night and things could get sordid.
This was, I was guessing, because this culture was whacked.